A Breath of Fresh Air
by Liv Wilder
Summary: Vague spoilers for 5x05. Inspired by Sneak Peek 2. "Castle pushes the small gift bag towards her across the desk, and she frowns, staring at the offering while fighting a nascent smile." COMPLETE


Disclaimer: If I really wrote for Castle, I probably wouldn't be here on the beach right now. Searching for a silver lining.

A/N: A little jump off story inspired by Sneak Peak Number Two. No real spoilers.

* * *

_**A Breath of Fresh Air**_

Castle pushes the small gift bag towards her across the desk, and she frowns, staring at the offering while fighting a nascent smile.

"What is _this_?" she asks, fingers curling around the plain white paper bag.

"You said you'd remind me. But I went ahead and jumped the gun in case either of us forgets," he tells her, eyes sparkling, lips forming a secretive smile.

"Castle, I was _joking_."

"No, Kate. You were _planning_, and I loved it," he says, propelling the gift another inch towards her, like a pushy parent shoving their talented, self-effacing child towards center stage.

Kate stares at the gift as if it might be equal parts magical and radioactive.

"Richard Castle, what did you _do_?" she hisses, her voice barely a whisper as she leans towards him across her desk, smiling helplessly at him now.

* * *

It's after seven-thirty at night, he's been cleared of all charges in respect of the murder of Tess Horton, and they are finally alone in the bullpen with only the light over the murder board and two cups of cold coffee for company.

"When did you…?" asks Kate, still not daring to open the little bag as she circles it mentally, wanting to delay the moment of pleasure she senses she's about to experience for as long as possible.

Because her partner, her boyfriend, her lover - Richard Castle no less - just bought her a gift. And this man does nothing by halves.

"When you sent me out for fresh air this afternoon."

"And this…whatever _this_ is…_that's_ your idea of fresh air?" she chuckles, waving a hand towards the little bag.

"Why don't you go ahead and open it, Beckett. You won't know unless you look. And you know you want to," his voice teases, as he leans towards her, resting his chin on his hand.

Kate purses her lips, a little girl with a surprise party favor bag look on her face. A little girl on the edge of something.

Castle nods encouragement at her, looking about as excited as Kate is. Then she smiles at him, so broadly that her eyes crinkle up at the sides, her white teeth bared, pink lips stretched wide, and he watches her fingers begin to inch towards the prize, and he revels in her pleasure.

* * *

She soon discovers that the anonymous white gift bag is in fact a foil for yet another bag, which is nestled inside, like a set of Matryoshka nesting dolls. When she pulls the inner bag out, her breath catches in her throat – it's iconic, instantly recognizable - a turquoise blue all it's own, with white satin rope handles and black lettering on the front.

"Castle, Tiffany is no where _near_ the Precinct. And you were gone for like…half an hour, tops. So how did you…? And don't say you know a guy," she shoots, looking up at him.

"Damn. I'm not allowed to use that anymore?" he jokes, knowing Kate well enough now that he realizes he's going to have to answer her question. In full.

"_So_?" she challenges, fingering the little blue bag, but still not going any further yet.

She wants the story.

"I might have had a little something already picked out for you," he admits, eyes twinkling.

"Oh really?" she asks playfully, a delighted smile blooming on her face.

She loves it when he admits that he was thinking about her when they're apart, in the little time they now spend apart. If they're not working together, they're eating, making love or sleeping together. And on the odd nights that they do spend apart, there are long, teasing phone calls that sometimes end up with making love, and, on one occasion, sleeping together, even at a distance.

And God she's such a girl underneath that tough exterior. And he loves that he gets to bring out that side of her more and more. He'll do anything to keep these moments of joy coming and that stunningly beautiful smile on her face.

"Yes, really," he replies.

"Where?"

"My bottom desk drawer."

"That your favorite hiding place?" she fires back, her eyes glittering.

"Sometimes. I like to mix it up a little," he says evasively, smirking at her.

"Good to know."

"Planning on rifling my drawers, Detective?"

"Wouldn't you like to know," she teases, leaning forward in her chair, her fingers curling around the edge of the desk closest to him.

"I thought there was a reasonable expectation of privacy if property was concealed out of plain sight," he offers back, thinking he's oh so clever.

"Like my little stickman, you mean?"

"Touché, Detective."

"You want me to get a search warrant, Castle?"

"That won't be necessary. You'll only torture all my hiding places out of me anyway."

"Oooo. That sounds like fun."

"Yeah, it kind of does," he laughs. "So, _anyway_, when you mentioned jewelry earlier today…"

"It's not my birthday, Castle."

"Who said anything about your birthday, Kate?"

"Get some fresh air, I said. Clear your head."

"_You_ were in my head," he admits with so much honesty, looking straight into her eyes, and dear God if her heart doesn't do a triple back flip.

"Don't…don't say things like that. Not here," she croaks out on a crest of emotion, sinking back in her chair just to put a little space between them.

"Why? No one can hear us," he says, looking around the dimly lit, near empty bullpen.

"No, but _I_ can, and I can't do anything about it here, and…_jeez, Rick_, you're driving my crazy with your pretty words."

She smiles defenselessly, and then lets her head drop forward in embarrassment, her hair falling over her face to partially shield her warming cheeks from him. So many admissions just popping out of her mouth these days as if her filter is permanently set to 'off' when it comes to him.

"My pretty words, huh?" he asks, so very quietly that she has to strain to hear him as he covers her hand with his own.

And it's such an intimate moment, heightened by the low light and the all-encompassing shadows and quiet that surrounds them that Kate's eyes flutter closed and she aches to just press her lips against his, NYPD rules be damned.

* * *

"You can kiss me later," he says tenderly, reading her mind, making her eyes flip open again.

"How did you…?"

"Open your gift, Beckett," he says softly, squeezing her hand and then letting go.

So Kate reaches into the Tiffany & Co gift bag, and withdraws the beautiful, perfect, little blue box. It's wrapped up in a white satin ribbon, the bow so perfectly tied it reminds her of Cinderella or Alice in Wonderland – a fantasy bow created by tiny bluebirds on the wing.

Her fingers gently touch the smooth fabric, and then she deftly tugs on one end, rapidly freeing the loops and curls so that they unfurl and spring free, falling in a pretty swirl on her desktop.

"Did you torture your parents every Christmas and birthday by unwrapping your presents at this pace?" teases Castle, his fingertips pressed against his lips in a pose she knows means he's really excited.

"Shut up. I'm savoring the moment," she throws back at him, laughing.

"Plenty more moments like this one ahead, Beckett. But only if you promise to do the big reveal more quickly in future."

* * *

She has the box held in her hand now, and she finally lifts the lid, prizing it off with her short, neatly trimmed nails before Castle can snatch it from her hand and do the honors himself.

Inside the box, nestles a Tiffany blue, suede pouch with a little drawstring. Below the pouch is a darker blue, velvet box. Kate sets the pouch to one side, and it tinkles as it settles on her desk. She lifts the velvet box out and prepares to pop the lid.

"Now, if you don't like it…" he starts to say, breaking the heavy, expectant silence that surrounds them.

Kate puts the box back down and looks up at him, one eyebrow arched.

Castle holds up his hands in apology, mouths 'sorry', and waves for her to continue.

"It's from you. So I already know I'll love it," she says simply, keeping her eyes trained down, and Castle is stunned all over again at what they've become – how open and close - and at just how quickly they've gotten here.

When she prizes open the lid, nestled against the navy velvet interior is a delicate silver bracelet, the finely crafted links glinting up at her. And in the center of the box is set a single silver charm.

"The Scales of justice," says Kate, lifting out the tiny set of miniature scales and laying them in her palm.

"Reminded me of your mom," says Castle, breaking into her thoughts.

"They're beautiful, Castle, and so intricate. The detail…"

When she glances up at him her eyes are shining with wonder.

"Look inside the pouch," he says, nodding towards the little suede bag of swag.

Kate loosens the drawstring and tips the contents out into her palm. A tiny silver book and an equally small replica of an NYPD police badge skid out into her hand.

Castle watches her face intently, taking in every nuance of those beautifully expressive features of hers, as she studies the diminutive items in her hand.

"_Heat Wave_? You had this inscribed?" she asks in amazement, reading the tiny engraved letters on the spine and cover of the book, touching them like braille with the pad of her finger.

"Look at the brass," he says, pointing to the police badge.

"41319? You had _my number_ engraved on here? Castle…"

She covers her mouth with her hand, holding in so much.

"I thought…well, the book is for me obviously, and the badge represents you. The scales are for your mom. And I was thinking…maybe we could add a charm or two every year. Birthdays and Christmases maybe?" he says, with a hopeful lilt to his voice.

And Kate likes the way that sounds - birthdays and Christmases and Richard Castle. Oh, she likes it very much. Thoughts that she never dared have before now fill her with excitement and hope for the future.

"Do you like it?" he asks, in a sudden rush of uncertainty, his eyes trained on her dark pools of bewitching hazel.

"Like it? Castle, I love it," she breathes, her eyes sparkling with everything she can't quite say. "I really, really love it. And do you know what I love most about it?" she asks, leaning forward and reaching for his hand. "That you're planning too," she says, finally sealing her lips to his, as they both emit a heartfelt moan, and their surroundings all but disappear.

A/N: Hope you enjoyed that short, romantic one guys. Have a great weekend. Liv


End file.
